


The Gift That Gives Itself

by lockedin221b



Series: Tied Up With String [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ankle Cuffs, BDSM, Bondage, Bottom John, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Cock Rings, Cock Slut, Consent, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Gags, Handcuffs, M/M, Multi, Multiple Penetration, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Spreader Bars, Sub John, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:19:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockedin221b/pseuds/lockedin221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anneincolor answered: OT3 Action. Sherlock and Lestrade accidentally gift John to one another at the same time, and sneaky John is totally aware of the situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift That Gives Itself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuickLikeLight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/gifts).



> I was determined to make this work.
> 
> So was John 8]

A week before Christmas, Sherlock strode into the lounge and declared he had decided on a gift to give Greg. John looked up from the telly and did a poor job of hiding a smile. “Oh?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I’m going to give Greg you.”

John flipped off the telly and folded his hands on his lap. “You’re going to give me to Greg for Christmas?”

“If you’re amenable.”

John snorted. “Sherlock, Greg doesn’t need your permission to have me.”

“I could wrap you up?”

“You could,” John laughed.

Sherlock scowled and dropped into his chair. “Bloody holiday.”

“This is all you could come up with?”

“It’s your or a new handgun, and I don’t think the Met would take kindly to the latter, even if their issues are horrendously subpar.”

John rolled his eyes. “Fine, you can give him me.”

Sherlock’s expression brightened comically. “Really?”

“If it keeps you from getting into trouble with the police, sure. You can even wrap me up for him.”

Sherlock leapt from his chair and flung himself on John with a kiss. As quickly as he did this, though, he was out of the room muttering about handcuffs.

 

A few days after John had agreed to be Sherlock’s gift to Greg, John sat in his and Greg’s usual pub, sharing their usual weekly drinks over the game. It had started when they were mates, but they continued with it after Greg made John and Sherlock’s coupling a triumvirate. It was good fun, plus Sherlock would always give his own commentary on the elegant barbarism of sports if they tried watching a match at Baker Street.

“I’m at a complete loss,” Greg sighed. “I haven’t a clue what to get Sherlock.”

John shrugged. “Don’t get him anything. He really doesn’t care for this sort of thing.”

“But I care. Besides, what if he gets me something? Then I look like a git.”

“I really wouldn’t worry yourself about it.”

“Too bad I can’t give him you.”

John choked on the draught he was taking. “What?”

“Come on. We both know you’re his favourite thing in the world, but he’s already got you, hasn’t he?”

John grinned against the edge of his pint. “You could always wrap me up and put a bow on me.”

“Maybe I should,” Greg muttered. “It’d be a lot simpler than figuring out something to buy him.”

“Go for it.”

Greg looked dumbly at him for a moment. “You’re serious?”

John shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like I won’t be getting something out of it.”

“John Watson, you are brilliant.” Greg wrapped his arm around John and pulled him close in the booth the plant a kiss on the top of his head.

 

John told Greg he’d make sure Sherlock was out of the flat at seven on Christmas Eve. He told Sherlock to make sure he was back from the morgue a little after seven, as that was when Greg would be finishing his last shift before Christmas, and he’d probably be around by half past. At quarter to, the flat was empty save for John and a large nondescript shopping bag. He taped an envelope—on which was written _wait for each other_ —to the outside of the bedroom door and shut it.

John set a brand new box of condoms and a comically large bottle of lube on the nightstand. He stripped before dumping the contents of the bag on the bed. He belted the cuffs of the spreader to his ankles first. Then he pulled on the silicone cockring over his prick and bollocks and tied on the large premade bow. He strapped on the thigh cuffs, attached to which was a sling. He left this in his lap for the moment, and put half of each pair of handcuffs around his wrists. He waited until he heard the door to the flat open to put the large metal ring gag in his mouth and secure it around his head. He pulled the sling over his head and positioned it behind his neck, laying back as he did. Last of all, he clasped the other halves of the handcuffs to the small lengths of chain between the bar and ankle cuffs.

He heard the card being removed from the bedroom door. It couldn’t have been another five minutes when the flat door opened again. John couldn’t keep from grinning, wishing he had some way to see Greg and Sherlock’s expressions as the next several moments went by, particularly when they read his card.

_Sherlock & Greg-_

_Usually when two people choose the same gift for one another, it’s a good laugh for everyone but the givers-recipients themselves, who tend to feel a little downtrodden that they weren’t so original after all. That’s not going to be the case tonight; I’m set on making sure you both enjoy this little mix-up._

_I’ve gone ahead and wrapped your gift for you, so you’ll both be at least a little surprised. Most important of all, remember to share._

_Happy Christmas, lovers._

_John_

The door opened and Sherlock and Greg walked in. They didn’t make it far before they both stopped and stared wide-eyed at John. “Well,” Greg said, voice tight.

Sherlock began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ll take his mouth.”

Greg started. “Wait, what?”

“If we move him so his head is at the edge of the bed, I’ll have a good angle without worrying about choking him. I’m also smaller than you when erect, and I’m more accustomed to fucking John in either hole. It’s easier for me to read any potential signs of discomfort.”

Greg slowly pulled off his jacket. “Yeah, my brain’s still processing.”

“Obviously.” With his shirt hanging open, Sherlock brushed Greg’s hands aside and make quick work of the other man’s clothes. At the same time, he caught Greg’s open mouth in what looked to be, if Greg’s expression was anything to go by, one hell of a kiss.

Greg dropped his forehead to Sherlock’s shoulder. “Give me a minute. I’m not exactly experienced with bondage.”

“Another reason you should take a more standard approach by fucking John’s arse rather than his mouth.” Sherlock peeled off Greg’s shirt and pulled his vest over his head. “John and I have done a little in the past, though nothing quite this elaborate. We’ve discussed it, though.” Sherlock looked over at John and caught his gaze. “You couldn’t have at least stretched yourself?”

John rattled a handcuff as he flipped Sherlock off.

Greg grinned, finally up to speed as he hurriedly did away with his trousers and pants. “I don’t mind.”

John gave him a wink.

Greg picked up the bottle of lube John had set on the nightstand. He knelt on the bed below John, running a hand across the insides of his upper thighs. Blood began redirecting straight John’s cock.

While Greg began running a slick fingertip across John’s hole, Sherlock sat on the bed next to John and began checking over his restraints, particularly the sling at the back of his neck. “While I appreciate the intention, you shouldn’t have done this without one of us here. You could have hurt yourself.”

John rolled his eyes.

Sherlock rubbed his palm down John’s chest. “You’d be giving me the same lecture were our roles reversed.”

John released a huff of air from his nostrils and nodded.

Greg pushed his finger into John, causing John’s body to momentarily tense up and his eyes widened a little.

Sherlock grinned and leaned over to kiss John’s brow. “You are beautiful like this.”

“Er, Sherlock?” Greg, one finger in John, fumbled with the bow on John’s prick.

Sherlock untied it and tossed it aside. He stroked the ring, which was steadily feeling tighter. “If we aren’t careful, Greg, we might both come before John.” He looked back at John, at the same time running the tip of his finger up the underside of John’s prick. “And then where would that leave our lovely gift?”

As Greg stretched John, Sherlock massaged John’s cock and bollocks with a single hand. With the other, he stroked himself. The whole time, he kept his eyes locked with John’s. John watched Sherlock’s eyes go dark and blown, despite his passive expression.

Greg regularly marked and kissed John’s suspended calves. With two fingers knuckle-deep in John, he slowly began to scissor him wide. John’s breathing was fast and loud, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth. At last, Greg gave John a final, teasing stroke against his prostate before pulling his fingers out. Greg glanced at John’s face before looking at Sherlock. “He’s ready when we are.”

Sherlock took his hand from his own cock, but continued to rub John’s softly. John watched Sherlock look Greg over before beckoning him closer. They met in another kiss, and Sherlock reached toward Greg with his recently freed hand. John couldn’t see it, but it didn’t take Sherlock to deduce from the motion and the following moan from Greg’s mouth that Sherlock had taken hold of Greg’s cock. After a moment of snogging that was thoroughly enjoyable, if a little teasing, for John to watch, Sherlock backed away. “Now we’re ready.”

They moved John together, taking him carefully in hand as they slid him down the mattress and turned him so his head hung over the edge of the bed. John’s thighs folded back even further.

Sherlock passed Greg a condom and retrieved one for himself from the new box. “You start,” Sherlock said.

Greg nodded. He pressed John’s cleft open with one hand and guided his cock in with the other.

John’s breathing came sharp and rapid through his nostrils. He gripped the bar that stretched between his feet; it was the most mobility he had. His heart raced. The knowledge of his situation quickly sank with emotions that were far from coherent and rational.

“Hold on,” Sherlock said sharply, and Greg stopped at once. Sherlock cradled the back of John’s head with one hand. “Breathe,” he whispered, the tips of his fingers stroking the nape of John’s neck just above the sling. “Alright?”

John nodded against Sherlock’s palm, his panic fading.

“Should we stop?” Greg offered, concern evident in his voice. He was rubbing John’s calf soothingly, and John wasn’t sure it was an entirely conscious act on Greg’s part.

John shook his head.

“No,” Sherlock said. “He’s alright now.”

“Sure?”

John gave Greg two thumbs-up. Greg’s fingers locked with his own and he gave a squeeze. He finished pushing into John with his hand like that, tightly twined with John’s. John closed his eyes, his focus between Greg’s cock in his arse and Sherlock’s long fingers stroking the back of his head.

“Go ahead,” Sherlock told Greg.

Greg started slow and built his pace very gradually. John rubbed the back of his head into Sherlock’s hand to get his attention. When Sherlock looked down, John rolled eyes and looked as best he could toward Greg.

Sherlock smiled. “John says to stop treating him like glass.”

John laughed.

“Does he now?” Greg pinched the back of John’s thigh and gave a hard thrust.

John keened and took hold of the bar again.

Once Greg found a faster, steady pace, Sherlock fed his cock through the ring gag. He did little more than add support to John’s head and neck, allowing the force of Greg’s thrusts to move John and the ring up and down his cock. John pressed the flat of his tongue up against the head, and Sherlock groaned.

“Faster,” Sherlock gasped. “Greg, faster. And harder.”

Greg obliged eagerly. He lifted John’s hips a little further up and held them tight as his thrusts grew shallow but far more forceful.

John moaned, loud and deep, pushing his tongue harder against Sherlock’s cock. Sherlock was breathing hard, clearly trying to keep from adding to the rock of John’s body. Of course, that was not what John was looking for. He pushed his head a little further back, straining against the sling and Sherlock’s hands, and curled his tongue hard up Sherlock’s cock before returning it to the steady, flat press.

“Fuck,” Sherlock gasped, hips twitching. “Oh, John. John, John. You beautiful, salacious man.”

John would have smiled if he could have.

“What?” Greg huffed, slowing a little.

“No, don’t stop.” Sherlock stroked the back of John’s head once more. “Our gorgeous John. Who knew he would turn out to be such a cockslut?”

The word caused Greg to falter. “What?” he choked.

“Look at him. Look at what he did for us. Set all this up, put himself on display like this, and now he wants to get fucked on both ends.”

“I think you’re right.” Greg squeezed John’s hips and gave a single thrust.

John whined, knuckles going white as he squeezed the bar.

“I’m afraid,” Sherlock said slowly, “what was supposed to be our gift to each other has turned into John’s gift to us.”

“I’m not complaining.” Greg thrust.

“Though I suppose we can turn it equally into our joint gift to him. What do you say, Greg? Up for some synchronised fucking of our own personal whore?”

“Ready when you are.”

For a moment, everything went silent and still except for their collective heavy breathing. John shuddered, his entire body on edge, anticipating-

Sherlock and Greg thrust together. The head of Sherlock’s cock sunk to the back of John’s throat, and Greg’s slammed again John’s prostate. He cried loud, the noise muffled by Sherlock’s prick. He held on tighter than ever to the spreader bar as Sherlock and Greg fucked him with renewed vigour.

They alternated between a reciprocal synchronisation, with one thrusting out as the other thrust in, and simultaneously driving into John at both ends. Whatever their mode of communication, it was not for John to see or hear, and it kept each shift anticipated but unpredictable.

Were it not for the cock ring, John, regardless of having the best stamina among the three of them, would have come not long after Sherlock called John his and Greg’s personal whore. As it was, John felt his body creeping toward orgasm. The only thing keeping him from it was the ring and, more so, the lack of touch.

“I don’t know,” Greg huffed after the next shift, this one from dual plunging to the tandem in-and-out, “how much longer I can last.”

“It’s fine,” Sherlock panted. “He’s been ready for a while.”

John whimpered in confirmation. His tongue had long since tired out, along with the rest of his muscles, save for his hands clutching weakly to the spreader bar.

One of Greg’s hands disappeared from John’s hip. A second later, Greg rubbed his palm from John’s tight bollocks up the underside of his aching cock, through the pre-ejaculate that dripped from the head. Then he took proper hold of John’s cock, stroking it first with the pad of his thumb. Suddenly, Greg and Sherlock both pulled back, and, in the split second he had, John’s entire body tensed before Greg gave John’s cock a hard jerk as he and Sherlock slammed into him.

With a strangled scream, John came. It was one of the hardest orgasms he’d ever had, and it lasted. Between the lengthy build-up and the constriction of the cockring, it lasted. He came in short, continuous spurts. His muscles found renewed strength to clench up , particularly, it felt, around Greg’s cock.

Greg let go of John’s cock and returned his hand to John’s hip as he lost all rhythm, fucking John’s orgasm-induced tightness into his own climax.

John, fuzzy as his head was, became aware of Sherlock’s fingers scrabbling against the back of his head. The strap of the ring gag came loose. Sherlock pulled his cock out of John’s mouth, but only to remove the ring. Once it was out of the picture, he stuffed the head of his prick back in.

Despite his sore jaw, John took Sherlock’s cock back in greedily. He moved his tongue across the slit and gave a vigorous suck. Sherlock gripped the back of John’s skull and came with a hard jerk. John kept sucking until Sherlock pried himself free of John’s lips.

Greg dragged John back until he was fully on the bed again. Sherlock lifted John’s head and pulled the sling from behind his neck before dropping onto the mattress next to him.

John dropped his feet as much as he could with his wrists still attached. As far as he was concerned, the rest of his restraints could wait until they’d all had a moment to breathe. Greg, however, wasted no time. With clumsy fingers, he unstrapped the cuffs on John’s thighs and ankles. John stretched out his legs and rested the spreader bar on his stomach.

Greg stroked John’s wrist above the handcuffs. “Where are the keys?”

“Keys?” John fumbled for a moment before finding the trick latch and loosing the handcuffs. He shook his wrists free and dropped them onto the bed at his sides.

“Oh my god,” Greg laughed. He moved the bar aside and laid down next to John, stretching one arm across his chest. “You are ridiculous.”

On John’s other side, Sherlock sat up and leaned over them both. “No, he’s brilliant.”

John closed his eyes and gave them a broad, lazy grin.


End file.
